As The Old Saying Goes
by Partners In Fanfic
Summary: A collection of oneshots based on quotes/popular sayings/idioms/clichés because, let's face it, even the most clichéd phrases would sound good coming from our favorite NCIS team. *Rated T for minor language*
1. If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em

**_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS. SORRY._**

_Dear readers,_

_EAJP here again. So, I've been writing oneshots for several of my collections, and quite frankly, I needed a new one...something to throw a little BAM! into my life for awhile, you know? As the description says, this will be a collection based on quotes/sayings/idioms. I'm planning on writing a few for NCIS:LA, and if those do well, I might make it a separate collection. Depends on what you all think. Anyway, here's to yet another one of my crazy collections. Read and enjoy!_

_Semper Fi, EAJP  
_

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"**If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."**

Jennifer Sheppard was not in the mood – for anything. At all. Her day had started off horrible, and it didn't seem to be getting any better. SecNav was being as annoying as ever, and every director in Washington seemed to need her attention. Even Fornell took a detour on his way to work to ask her to help him out.

And to top it all off, today was her birthday.

Yes, on a day where Jen Sheppard should be relaxing, eating cake, and enjoying being fawned over, she was getting yelled at and demanded of. And it pissed her off. She wanted nothing more than to enjoy the surprise party tonight that Abby had planned for her (Abby didn't need to know that Jen knew about it), but suddenly, she just wasn't in the mood to party, even if she wanted to.

Cue Gibbs, the man she summoned up to her office who should be throwing open her door right about…now.  
"You wanted to see me, Director?" Gibbs asked almost mockingly as he strolled into her office.

"I appreciate your knock, Special Agent Gibbs," Jen responded dryly, not even bothering to glance up from her seemingly endless pile of paperwork (that she wasn't really reading, just glaring at).

"Chase, birthday girl. Cut to it," Gibbs said with a smirk, flopping down in a chair in front of her desk.

"Abby's planning a surprise party for me."

Gibbs pretended to look shocked.

"Come on, it's Abby. There's no such thing as a secret when Abby's around."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "So? You get a party on your birthday. Woo. Now why am I here?"

Jen sighed and glared at him. "I. Want. You. To. Stop. This. Party."

Gibbs blinked at her.

"Listen, I don't really feel like a party today. We already had a little lunch party in autopsy today – I don't need another thing to worry about. All I want is a nice, quiet night."

Gibbs nodded. "SecNav on your ass again?"

"Shut up, Jethro."

"He sent you flowers, at least." Gibbs gestured to the flower arrangement on the conference table with a nod of his head.

"Are you going to help me out here or not?"

Gibbs stared at her, his gaze unwavering (as usual). "Fine. No party tonight." He stood up and strode to the door. As he turned the handle, he called over his shoulder, "Just you, me, and Chinese."

Jen smiled. Her day already got a little bit better.

**NCIS**

"No party tonight?" Jen asked as she and Gibbs were speeding along the highway (Chinese in the back seat) toward his house.

"Nope."

"Good." Jen replied, nodding affirmatively.

Gibbs smirked (an act that went undetected by the redhead in the passenger's seat). He knew that her asking him to cancel her surprise party had been done out of agitation toward the world, and that really, she kind of did want a party. He also knew that she was too stubborn to admit it and would never take back what she said.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, the only sound being the radio that Jen turned on, much to Gibbs' dismay. But, it was her birthday after all – he could make an exception just once ("This is a onetime thing," he had told her).

They pulled into his driveway and both of them got out of the car (Jen grabbed the takeout). Gibbs walked up to the door and threw it open.

"I'll set up in the living room – you get the bourbon," Jen said as she kicked off her shoes. She seemed to be past her disappointment in not having a party and was excited to spend some time relaxing.

Jen walked toward the living room light switch and flipped it on. As soon as she did so, a chorus of voices shouted, "Surprise!" as they jumped out from behind various objects in the living room.

Jen blinked and stared at Gibbs' team, including Ducky, Palmer, and Cynthia, with disbelief. Gibbs had told her…

"Come on, Jenny, did you really think that Gibbs could talk _me_ out of throwing you a surprise party?" Abby asked, grinning widely.

"I guess not," she muttered in reply, still in shock (though why she was was a mystery even to her).

"Gibbs did try though," Ziva admitted, "He tried very hard to stop us."

"Even threatened Abby with a headslap," Dinozzo offered.

"Tried to hide the decorations in one of my body freezers," Ducky admitted with a chuckle.

"But he's no match for us," McGee replied, grinning.

At this, Jen smiled weakly. At least he tried. So with that knowledge, she smiled as everyone began to wish her a happy birthday and offered her some food. But as soon as Gibbs entered the room, a case of beer in hand for everyone, she fixed a glare on him (she let everyone else off the hook, but she wasn't going to be that easy on him).

"Jethro, I thought you said there wasn't going to be a party!" Jen looked at the silver-haired man defiantly, irritated that he had been part of the surprise all along, even if he did try to stop it at first (she hated when she was wrong about someone's personality – she never pegged Gibbs as the type to take part is surprise parties).

But, even Jen had to laugh at him as Gibbs shrugged and replied uncharacteristically, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

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**Well, did any of you like it? My, I hope so. =)**

**As with my other stories, if you have any suggestions, send them my way. You guys are an inspiration like no other. =)**

**TWITTER? Follow me at Partners_Fanfic (link on profile page). I'll tweet you back cause I'm cool like that.  
**


	2. What Doesn't Kill You

**_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS. _**

_EAJP here. Wow! Really good response for the first chapter of this collection, so thanks for that! Anyway, sorry it took me awhile to update...midterms are coming up, and you know how those are. Anyway, read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is for Magnis, who suggested it (and also inspired it with her puppy dog eyes comment). Hope you enjoy it! =D**_  
_

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"**What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger." – Friedrich Nietzsche**

_Whoever said "What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger," was a liar. A liar that obviously never had to go shopping with two women in his entire life. _

These were the thoughts of one very Special Agent Timothy McGee as he stood outside yet another Macy's (or was it a J.C. Penney?) waiting for Ziva and Abby (the whole reason he was in a mall in the first place) to come out with what he assumed would be even more shopping bags.

Somehow, he had gotten roped into joining the two women on their after-Christmas-bargain shopping expedition with the sole purpose of carrying around their shopping bags. McGee pondered the actual reason he had agreed in the first place (moment of insanity was his first thought) as he toddled over to a bench in order to set down the seven or eight bags he was already holding.

And then he remembered…

"_Hey Timmy!" Abby exclaimed as McGee strolled into her office warily, wondering why Abby called him down to her lab at quarter to five on a Friday._

"_Hey, Abs. What's up?" _

"_I need to you to me a favor," she replied._

_McGee's ears perked up at this. Whatever it was couldn't possibly be work-related, since all her equipment was in the process of shutting down for the weekend._

"_Sure, what do you need?"_

"_I need you to come to the mall with me and Ziva tomorrow," Abby explained, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet._

_McGee's face fell. He hated the mall. No, scratch that, he liked the mall – he just hated the marathon-shopping treks that happened when he went to the mall – especially with Abby._

"_Why do you need me?"_

"_Because," Abby said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "We need someone to hold our bags while we shop. We can't keep running back to the car every time we buy something – we'd miss out on all the sales."_

_McGee's look went from one of disappointment to mortification. He would spend a day in a locked room with Dinozzo than spend a day holding shopping bags in a mall during the post-Christmas mayhem. _

"_Abby, I, well, I – I. I'm kinda busy tomorrow," he stuttered out (because telling her "No, I don't want to play pack-mule to you for who knows how many hours," would be too rude)._

_Abby pouted. "Pleaaaasssse, Timmy?"_

_McGee blinked at her. "Abby, I'll __**die**__in the mall! I'm not made to withstand being knocked around in a crowded place like that!"_

_Abby merely laughed at him. "It won't kill you, I promise. Besides, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger!"_

_McGee opened his mouth to protest, but Abby wouldn't listen to him. "Don't even ask me if I asked Tony or Gibbs, because Ziva and I agreed that Gibbs wouldn't do it and Tony would be too much of a nuisance. So there." (McGee shut his mouth.)_

_McGee sighed as he took another look at Abby's famous pout. He couldn't resist it, so he simply gave in. "Fine, Abs. I'd be happy to go."_

Tim sighed at the memory and mumbled under his breath, "Only makes you stronger my ass; it should be more like, only beats you down."

He hadn't really thought that Ziva, the Israeli assassin who never showed any sign of an interest in shopping, and Abby, the eccentric Goth who won't buy anything that isn't black, spiky, or science-related, would manage to find as much as they did to buy. Every store they went in, they came out with at least one bag (McGee was too frightened to even ask what was in them) – and they were only on the first level of the mall.

"Timmy!" McGee heard someone squeal. Although he couldn't see who it was around the shopping bags and people, he knew it was most certainly Abby.

"Yeah, Abs?"

"Hold these bags for us, would ya?" Abby asked, as she and Ziva deposited four more bags onto McGee's lap. McGee glanced at them, pain written across his face (he was convinced that this would kill him).

"Stay here, McGee," Ziva said, sensing his hesitance to stand up with all the bags he was holding. "We are only going to the store next to this one. We will back for you."

McGee nodded forlornly as he saw the two women head off to the store happily out of the corner of his eye.

For a few minutes McGee tried to figure out what was in all the shopping bags he was hauling around without looking at them, but then someone sitting down next to him caused him to look up.

"Hello, Tim," the unmistakable voice of Gibbs greeted.

McGee looked over, startled. "B-Boss? What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are," Gibbs said, gesturing to the shopping bags he had in his hands.

"Who are you playing pack mule for, Boss?" McGee smiled.

Gibbs chuckled, "Jen. But if you tell Dinozzo, you get desk duty for a month. You?"

"Ziva and Abby." Gibbs' eyebrows rose as an indication to shock. "Abby talked me into it," McGee explained, "With that stupid quote –"

"What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger," Gibbs finished, glaring at nothing in particular, "Quote by Friedrich Nietzsche."

"Yeah? We'll he's a liar," McGee said, conjuring up a glare of his own.

Gibbs and McGee looked at each other. "Amen to that."

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**What did you think? I just had to throw Gibbs in there...it was too perfect ^.^ Leave me a review!**

**Suggestions? Lemme have 'em. **


	3. You Can't Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

**_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS OR NCIS:LA._**

_EAJP here. Sorry it took so long to update! I've been super busy studying for midterms, but I finally found some time to sit down and get a chapter out. For all those dealing with snow right now, I feel your pain! Hope you're building snowagents and such and enjoying wintertime (and for those in Australia and anywhere else warm, I envy you). Anyway, read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is for GibbsLover77, who suggested it (I hope you like NCIS:LA at least a little bit, since they're in this story ^.^). Hope you enjoy it! =D**_  
_

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"**You can't teach an old dog new tricks."**

'Stereotypical male bonding' was never a phrase associated with Jethro Gibbs. Ever. In fact, this coffee-drinking Marine was anything but stereotypical, and wasn't much of a bonder either, so the only word that would correctly apply to him would be 'male' (and even that is a bit vague when giving a description).

Alas, Gibbs enjoyed a drink at a bar with a friend or an occasional football game just as much as the next person, but the fact of the matter was that typically, one would have better luck finding Gibbs in an FBI conference than in a room filled with eight guys drinking beer, watching football, and well, being guys. That is, until now.

Because now, Gibbs was sitting in a room with Tony, Ducky, Palmer, McGee, Callen, Sam, Eric, and Deeks doing just that – stereotypically male bonding.

As fate would have it, Callen's last case crossed paths with Gibbs's, which meant he and his whole team had to fly out to D.C. to finish it. Obviously, the two teams combined finished very quickly, so Callen couldn't get his team a flight back to LA any sooner than the next week. So, Abby took it upon herself to show Kensi and Hetty around the city (and by 'showing around' she meant shopping), which left all the guys the task of finding something to do with themselves. So, they congregated at Dinozzo's house to watch the game.

"Aren't you glad I dragged you out of your dungeon?" Callen asked, gesturing to Dinozzo and Deeks arm wrestling each other as Sam, McGee, Ducky, and Palmer cheered them on.

"Nope." Gibbs took another sip of his beer and glared ahead.

"Come on, it's like that time we had to go undercover in Moscow as those Russian gamblers."

Gibbs glanced at Callen with a raised eyebrow. "Not really," they both said simultaneously. Gibbs smirked.

A collective cheer signaled the two men to the fact that someone had won the arm wrestling game.

"Who won?" G called over to Sam.

"Deeks. Psyched Dinozzo out."

Callen groaned. "I'm never going to hear the end of that."

Gibbs laughed. "Neither am I."

Callen and Gibbs stayed in their seats, but the rest of the group got up to gather around the television.

"Now what are you doing?" Callen asked, smirking.

"Black ops," McGee replied as he pulled a PlayStation off a shelf on Dinozzo's wall.

"Black what?" Gibbs asked.

"Black ops. It's a video game." Callen chuckled at his older friend – sometimes he wondered if Gibbs really didn't know about anything from the twenty-first century or just pretended not to (if the latter was the case, Gibbs was indeed a very good actor).

Gibbs just shook his head and continued to drink his beer. "They make video games out of that stuff now?"

"Believe it or not, Jethro, not everyone has had the pleasure of participating in an actually 'black op,'" Ducky said as he took a seat on the couch, "So they made a game for all of those who couldn't."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Sounds like a waste of time to me."

"Don't disrespect this waste of time!" Dinozzo replied, emerging from another room with two controllers in his hand, "I'm actually very good at it."

"If you're so good, then you go first," Sam said, gesturing to the TV. "Pick your opponent."

Dinozzo surveyed the room, deciding who he would pick to use the second controller. Then, as his eyes landed on Gibbs, the rest of the room could practically see the light bulb go off over the senior field agent's head.

"Gibbs!" Dinozzo exclaimed, holding the remote out in his boss's directions. "You like guns. Play a game."

Gibbs blinked as the men stared at him expectantly. "No."

"Come on, Boss!" McGee protested meekly, unsure of why he even thought that Gibbs would agree to do it. "We'll teach you how to use the controller."

"No."

"Come on, Jethro," Ducky prodded (because he was eager to see how Gibbs would fare using a gun on a TV screen).

Gibbs merely raised an eyebrow.

"Scared, Gibbs?" Callen said in a low tone, so no one else could make out what he said.

If looks could kill, Callen would be dead on the floor because the glare Gibbs fixed on him after he said that would have stopped a train. Callen merely smiled – it wasn't the first time he used the old 'scared?' card on Gibbs to get him to do something (but that was a story for a different time and place), and he and Gibbs both knew that.

"Give me the controller, Dinozzo. Can't be any harder than solving a murder." Gibbs smirked at the group's shocked expression.

"Uh, sure Gibbs, here ya go." Dinozzo handed the controller to him and he and McGee stood next to him as they explained the buttons he would need to use to play the game.

After the two agents finished explaining the controller – and the rest of the game for that matter, with a few pointers here and there from Deeks, Callen, and Palmer – Dinozzo and Gibbs settled on the couch in front of the TV and started up the game.

The game started off well, and Gibbs was holding his own – although it was obvious that Gibbs hadn't seemed to play before.

"You can't go through that door, Boss," Dinozzo pointed out (along with everyone else).

"Why not?" Gibbs questioned.

"Because you can't. It's locked," McGee chimed in.

Gibbs laughed. "Watch me." And, as they watched on, he let a steady stream of virtual gunfire loose on the door until there was virtually no door left.

"Are you serious?" McGee cried, "I didn't know you could do that!"

"Wow," Dinozzo mused, impressed. "I guess you _can _teach an old dog new tricks."

Gibbs looked at Dinozzo out of the corner of his eye. "Who the hell are you calling an old dog? This old dog is kicking your ass." (And indeed he was.)

Callen laughed along with the rest of the group. He wondered though, if Gibbs, however old a dog he was, actually was learning a new trick, or was just pretending to for Dinozzo's sake. Whichever case was the truth, Gibbs still was kicking ass indeed.

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**So what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Lemme know. =)**

**A/N: Hope you don't mind that I added the NCIS:LA team. I really like the dynamic between Gibbs and Callen, and I thought it would be more interesting with more characters =)**

**Suggestions? Lemme have 'em.  
**


	4. When It Rains, It Pours

**_DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN NCIS. NEVER WILL, EITHER. (ALL HAIL DON BELLISARIO)_**

_EAJP here. Hello everyone! Sorry for not updating this in almost a month (2 days shy of a month, to be precise), but I've been busy...actually, busy is an understatement. I've been running around like Dinozzo at a bikini contest trying to get everything done that I need to for school. But alas, the project I had to do is complete, so I shall have my weekends to write like I did before. Anyway, hope you all are enjoying yourselves and whatnot. Read and enjoy!_

**This is for Gibbslover77, who suggested it. Hope you enjoy it! =)**_  
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"**When it rains, it pours."  
**

Very Special Agent Anthony Dinozzo was not, by anyone's standards (especially his own), having a good day. Somewhere deep in his subconscious, Tony knew that this day of horrible luck would come because it's practically a law of nature that even the most nonchalant and seemingly perfect people (example: Gibbs) have an off day every once in a while. And today – a drizzly, dreary, depressing D.C. Monday – just so happened to be his day for some bad luck.

The day started off horribly from the moment Dinozzo woke up, really, when he literally got up on the wrong side of the bed.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

_Dinozzo blindly reached for his alarm clock, but his hand merely collided with air. Sleepily, and without opening his eyes, he rolled over to try to slap the snooze button once again._

_Yet instead of finding himself on the more comfortable left side of the bed, he found himself…_

_Thump. "What the hell?"_

_On the floor._

_Dinozzo blinked up at the ceiling and realized that instead of staying on the right side of his bed as usual, he realized that he must have rolled over to the left side somewhere during the night, hence the reason he now had a knot the size of a golf ball forming on the back of his head from falling off the bed. _

_Tony groaned and closed his eyes as his alarm clock continued to beep annoyingly in the background._

And that was just the beginning. After taking aspirin, gulping down some breakfast, and changing into his suit for work, Dinozzo headed out to his car where he ran into even more bad luck.

"_At least that hell of a morning is behind me. I wonder if McGoo had as bad a Monday as I did," thought Dinozzo as he got into his pride and joy of a car and threw his backpack in the back seat. _

_Sighing, Tony rubbed the back of his head again and stuck the key into the ignition. One turn, nothing._

"_Come on."_

_Another turn of the key, nothing._

"_Please don't die on me here."_

_A third turn of the key caused the car to make a pitiful whining sound before not making a sound at all._

"_Are you serious?" Dinozzo yelled into the confines of the car. Angrily, he snatched his backpack up and got out of the car. Checking his watch, he realized that everyone else probably left for work already and wouldn't be able to pick him up. That left him with only one option. Taking the bus._

Yes, Dinozzo took the exact same bus that he mocked McGee for using all those years ago. He was hit with laptop bags, elbowed in his seat, and almost ended up wearing a pissed off lawyer's coffee on his pants. On top of the day from Hell, Dinozzo also had to suffer through the bus ride from Hell.

Tony reflected on these events as he was walking on his long trek from the bus stop to NCIS headquarters. It was still depressingly drizzling outside, coating him in a fine mist that he was sure Ziva would say "makes his hair shine like a puppy," or something of the sort.

Sighing angrily again and realized that he was going to be a half hour late. Right as he was about to call Gibbs and explain to him what happened, something caused him to stop.

"Are you kidding me?" he yelled up at the sky. The fine mist that was coming down suddenly turned into a torrential downpour, soaking Dinozzo almost immediately.

As Dinozzo broke into a full-out run toward the office, he couldn't help but think that he should have seen this one coming because, face it, when it rains, it pours – figuratively _and_ literally.

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**Ahem. What did you think? I know it's short, but I felt that it would be too dragged out if it were any longer. Personally, I don't think this is my best by any means, but then again, I'm my toughest critic. Anyway, drop me a review and let me know what you think. =)**

**Suggestions? Keep 'em coming. Love to see what quote you guys come up with.  
**


	5. No News is Good News

**_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS, OR NCIS:LA FOR THAT MATTER._**

_EAJP here. Hello everyone! First of all, thank you for all the positively LOVELY reviews from the last chapter. You all made me smile =) Also, things have slowed down on my end, so I'm hoping to have a lot more time to write. Spring is in the air, however temporarily, so that is definitely going to give me some good inspiration too. Anyway, read and enjoy!_**_  
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"_You're worried about something," Jen said as she walked down the steps to Gibbs' basement._

_Gibbs looked up briefly. "No I'm not."_

"_Yes, yes you are. When you're worried about something, you sand your boat. And right now, you're sanding a hole through that piece of wood."_

_At this statement, Gibbs glanced down at what he was doing, and sure enough, there was an indent in the wood where he had been sanding for at least the past half hour. Damn Jenny for being right all the time. _

As Gibbs stared at yet another indent he made – in a new boat, this time – he couldn't help but remember that day. Except that day, he had been worried about Ziva after she almost got shot by a serial killer. But he wasn't worried about Ziva today. No, today, he was worried about Callen.

He and McGee had gotten home from Los Angeles and both headed straight home. Gibbs gratefully dumped his duffel bag somewhere near his steps and headed straight for his basement. The first thing he noticed was that there was a light blinking on the dock of his phone, signaling he had a message. As Gibbs grabbed a jar of bourbon, he pressed the button to play whatever message he had (because if he had to hit more than one button, he wouldn't have bothered checking the message), and as he listened to hit, he was glad he did.

"_Hey Gibbs, it's Macy. Callen was shot. Five times. In the chest. He's in surgery right now – they're not sure how he's going to be. Well, I – I just thought I should tell you that. Bye."_

Gibbs stared at the phone. He had never heard Macy's voice quake like that. Callen never got shot five times in the chest, either. So, for once in his life, Gibbs actually picked up the phone and called Macy right back.

After talking to Macy and getting the details of exactly what happened to Callen (because not knowing what happened to his friend was worse than hearing the gory details), Gibbs immediately picked up a piece of sandpaper and began to sand his boat, trying to forget everything around him except the wood under his fingers.

And this brought him back to the current moment – glaring at the piece of wood he would now have to replace because there too much of a dip in the wood.

Gibbs, even though he would never admit it aloud, was worried. Sure, Callen had been shot many times before – Gibbs had even seen him take three bullets (on three separate occasions) when they had worked on operations together – but five bullets was a lot for anyone, even someone like G.

G was a good guy, one of the few men in the business that Gibbs actually liked. He was different from the rest, more like Gibbs than anyone else. He didn't care about rules that much, and he always knew when to pull out a bottle of bourbon. These two things alone made up the main reason Gibbs liked the younger agent so much.

Yet, Gibbs knew that Callen was too much like him for his own good. G, when it came to personal matters for him, he had a tendency to get in over his head. Gibbs always assumed that it was because Callen liked working alone, therefore wouldn't include the people he should in his 'investigations.' While this was a good part of the reason, Gibbs learned over time that Callen was too good at keeping separate his personal life and his work life. And Gibbs of all people knew how dangerous this could be.

Nevertheless, he wasn't quite sure why Callen was gunned down while walking down a street in Los Angeles, and Gibbs had a gut feeling it wasn't even that much of a personal matter. Gibbs almost chuckled at the thought of the long list of people that could have done this to Callen, seeing as though the man had more identities that Gibbs and his team ever had combined. Gibbs had once seen the warehouse where all the things Callen's covers needed were, and he was pretty sure that some Hollywood studios had less clothes and accessories.

Even still, the silver haired man made a mental note to schedule a few days off and book a plane ticket to Los Angeles to visit his friend as soon as he got back in the office. Gibbs knew from experience that sick leave was a pain in the ass to people like himself and Callen, so he knew how much company was appreciated. Besides, when Gibbs was shot during an operation in Prague, Callen took a plane from wherever he was all the way to the Czech Republic to sit with Gibbs in the hospital. Gibbs supposed that he owed Callen for that, anyway.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts of missions gone wrong, Gibbs spared a glance at the phone, willing it to ring. Much to Macy's surprise, Gibbs had requested that she call him as soon as she heard anything, good or bad, about G's state. That had been at least three hours ago, and Gibbs, being the impatient man he was, wanted some kind of update.

He resisted calling her (that would be too out of character) and walked over to the countertop to pour himself another glass of bourbon. Sighing, he settled himself against the ribbing of his boat and stared at the amber liquid swirling in the Mason jar. He decided he would wait up for awhile at least, to see if there was any news. But, as Gibbs learned very quickly early on about gunshot wounds and firefights, no news is most certainly good news.

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**I know this wasn't a suggestion, but I was inspired after seeing back-to-back NCIS/NCIS:LA commercials on CBS. Yeah. Hope you all liked it =)**

**Any more suggestions? I'll definitely be writing about the suggestions given in previous chapters next, so be on the lookout =)**

**Question for you all: Anyone a fan of the new Hawaii Five-0? I was thinking about writing a fic for it, but I'm a tad on the fence.  
**


	6. Keep Your Fingers Crossed

**_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS. NEVER WILL._**

_EAJP here. Well, long time, no update! Sorry, but I've been super busy, and I had a tad bit of writer's block. Nevertheless, I overcame it and I wrote! So, here is the product of my thoughts...really not sure how to explain it, except I just saw Dinozzo as the perfect character for this. Anyway, read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is for celtickat, who suggested it. Hope you enjoy it! =D**_  
_

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"**Keep your fingers crossed."**

"Keep your fingers crossed," is a mantra that one typically wouldn't think to associate with the confidence-exuding, very special agent Tony Dinozzo. Yet, contrary to his self-assured, "I'm-a-Dinozzo-and-that's-what-we-do" attitude, Tony is a fairly superstitious man when no one (hot girls or Gibbs) is looking (checking out or glaring at him, respectively), and has been for quite some time.

He never walks under ladders, wouldn't dream of picking up a penny on tails, walks the other way if ever a black cat dare cross in front of him, and on Friday the thirteenth, he constantly glances over his shoulder and even leaves early for work in order to make sure that he's prepared if something bad happened. But, out of every seemingly silly superstition Dinozzo secretly practices, there is always one thing he finds himself doing almost involuntarily – crossing his fingers.

Every time he thinks about it, he's never sure when exactly the finger crossing started. But one thing he knows for sure is that, at any given moment, he can recall a handful of memories – good or bad – where he had his fingers crossed, concealed by his jacket or pant pocket (or anything else that can hide his hand, that is).

He had his fingers crossed in his just-bought suit jacket pocket the day he shook hands with Gibbs for the first time, and kept them crossed until Gibbs said, "Welcome to NCIS," before stalking off to search for another cup of coffee.

He had his fingers crossed the night he was out with friends and saw a particularly beautiful (and over twenty-five) woman sitting at the bar staring at him. For the record, he did talk to her, bought her a drink even, but it turned out that she was too obsessed with art for even Dinozzo to put up with.

He had his fingers crossed when he contracted the Plague from that SWAK. This one, though, he was only fairly certain he had his fingers crossed for. He could have just been hallucinating, of course, or just envisioned it in his mind, seeing as though he was probably too weak to put one finger over the other. Nevertheless, luck (and Gibbs) prevailed.

He had his fingers crossed when he first met Ziva – and in the first few days she worked at NCIS – mainly because he was praying that she wouldn't kill him or otherwise torture him. Obviously, though, it turned out he pretty much crossed his fingers for nothing, because he there was no luck involved when he became friends with the Israeli (most people would probably attribute it to destiny, but that's a discussion for another time).

He had he fingers crossed as he stared at Gibbs, lying in a hospital bed in a coma after he was in that explosion. Dinozzo was pretty sure he crossed his fingers on both hands for that one – he even said a few prayers, because he figured something bigger than simple luck needed to be involved to save his boss.

He had his fingers crossed the whole time Gibbs was in Mexico. Every free moment he had, he was hoping that he didn't make a mistake, do something Gibbs wouldn't have done, or ruin the team any more than it already was.

He had his fingers cross the first time he saw Gibbs after Director Sheppard died. He half expected Gibbs to demand he hand over his badge right there on the spot, and half expected Gibbs to simply reach out, snap his neck, and move on with his life. Thankfully, he did neither, and instead chose not to blame Dinozzo at all for what happened (at least not blatantly).

He had his fingers crossed on his mission with McGee and Gibbs to Somalia, for very obvious reasons. This was a memory that Dinozzo chose not to remember very often, for when he did, it never had a very good ending (and he never would get much sleep that night, either). But when he did remember it, he could still feel the cramp in his middle finger from having it crossed over his index finger.

And Dinozzo recalls all these events as he sits in Gibbs' living room, on the floor, staring at Abby as she opens the birthday present he spent five weeks shopping for (he finally found a one of a kind, bejeweled skull and crossbones skeleton key in a shop in Virginia that he had to drive an hour to get to) – fingers crossed.

And only as Abby squeals, "Oh my God! I love it, it's perfect!" does Tony uncross his fingers and relax as he catches the Goth as she launches herself at him, pulling him into a one of a kind Abby hug. Tony grins – he's not really sure why he crossed his fingers for this one after all.

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**Like it? Love it? Hate it? Leave me a review and lemme know! Love reading what you guys have to say. =)**

**Suggestions? Lemme hear 'em. You guys come up with the best ideas. =)**


	7. What Goes Around, Comes Around

**_DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN NCIS. NEVER WILL._**

_EAJP here. Wow, long time no update! Sorry for that guys, but writer's block gave me a headslap, so I decided to focus my attention on some other stories while the plot bunnies ate away at this one. Anyway, I'm back and writing again =) Hope you all are well and your holidays were great! So, read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is for She-Demon Sparacino, who suggested it. Hope you like it =)**_  
_

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"**What goes around, comes around."**

Gibbs really didn't like his birthday – no, actually he didn't _care_ about his birthday, at least not any more. Maybe it was because birthdays meant nothing after Shannon and Kelly, or else he had just seen enough of them to not care, but his birthday was simply another day to him.

That never stopped his team from trying to celebrate it, though. As much as he glared and headslapped and threatened everything from desk duty to cleaning his house, they were ruthless in their quest to throw him a party, give him gifts, and generally be _festive_.

And Gibbs didn't like it. Not one bit.

Earlier that day, he had made a special trip to Jen's office to make it clear that he wanted no party like they threw him last year and the year before that.

_The door flew open and hit the wall with a bang. "Can I help you, Special Agent Gibbs?" Jen asked, not bothering to glance up from the file she was reviewing. _

_Gibbs sat down in front of her desk without saying a word, prompting Jen to tear her attention away from her work and finally focus on the incorrigibly silent agent in front of her. _

_She sighed. "I'm not in the mood to read your mind right now, so either tell me why you're here, or else I'm going to assume you just wanted to throw a door against a wall and go back to ignoring you."_

"_You better not be helping Abby plan my birthday party."_

_Jen resisted the urge laugh. "What's the matter? Mighty Jethro is scared of a little birthday party?"_

_Gibbs glared at her, and stood up as if to leave. "I. Don't. Want. A. Party. Understood?"_

_Without waiting for a response, Gibbs headed back toward the door and out of her office. Jen rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Yes, sir."_

Of course, Gibbs was a bit wary when he walked through his front door, half expecting people to leap out from behind furniture shouting surprise, much like they had done to Jen when she had said she hadn't wanted a party.

But his wariness was in a tad bit of vain, since no such thing happened as he changed into jeans and set a pot of coffee out for himself.

Eventually, he headed downstairs, fully intent on continuing the work on his project into much of the early morning. He got as far as two steps off the staircase when he was tackled to the floor.

"What the hell?" he yelled, trying to escape, but whoever it was obviously managed to get the upper hand.

"Getting a little rusty, _Gunny_?" a distinctly female voice purred as she put a blindfold over his eyes.

"Jen? What the hell is going on?" Gibbs demanded, automatically knowing who his attacker was (something he confirmed by smelling Jen's distinct perfume).

"Nothing, just doing a little something for your birthday." Jen grinned at her handiwork as she cuffed Gibbs' hands behind his back.

"Hinky," Gibbs replied. Jen rolled her eyes.

"Get up." She tugged him to his feet and guided him up the stairs and to his car.

"Is this necessary?" Gibbs asked as they started to drive to wherever Jen was taking him.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"What goes around, comes around, Jethro."

If looks could kill, the blindfold on Gibbs' face would surely melt and a poor pedestrian would have met an untimely face. "So you're throwing me a party."

"No."

"No?"

"No. Abby's throwing you a party." Jen laughed as she could practically hear Gibbs' eye roll.

"So where's your backup, Director?" Gibbs asked mockingly, mainly to pass the time.

"You are my backup, Special Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs laughed. "I'm not much good blindfolded and handcuffed."

Jen grinned, "You've worked in worse conditions. Now hush, we're here."

Jen helped Gibbs out of the car and guided him to their destination. Gibbs breathed in the air – they were most definitely at a dock.

Jen unlocked the handcuffs, "Well, we're here."

"Ok." Jen took the blindfold off him.

Gibbs blinked. "It's a boat."

"Yeah, yeah it is."

"No lights. Doesn't look like a party to me."

Jen grinned mischievously. "Like I said Gibbs, what goes around, comes around."

Suddenly, lights lit up the boat and the surrounding dock and water. Abby, Ducky, the team, even Fornell and Franks emerged from below the deck yelling, "SURPRISE!"

Yes, it most certainly looked to Gibbs' horrified face that what went around, did in fact finally come around indeed.

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**Like it? Love it? Make you wanna claw your eyebrows out? Lemme know... Reviews = Love and coffee**

**Suggestions? I would love to hear them. =)  
**


	8. Many Hands Make Light Work

**_DISCLAIMER: SADLY, I DON'T OWN NCIS._**

_EAJP here. Well, sorry for the long break from updates! I've been super busy with school, but now that that's out of the way for summer, I'm good to write! Anyway, the inspiration for this came from the fact that the other day, I spent about two hours shoveling/hauling mulch around nonstop. So I figured I'd put these guys through a little yard work =) Read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is for celtickat, who suggested it. Hope you enjoy it! =)****_  
_**

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"**Many hands make light work."**

"Oh my, this is a tad bit more yard work than I thought." Ducky Mallard stood up from where he was kneeling in a planter bed in the front of his house and wiped the sweat away from his forehead.

On one of his rare days off where he wasn't discovering the story behind a body from one the NCIS teams or pouring over the file of another unfortunate guest of his autopsy room, Ducky decided he would just do a few things around the outside of his house to prepare it for summer. But what started out as planting a few plants turned into spreading new mulch, planting flowers, and redoing the garden he never started in the backyard. Yes, the beloved medical examiner seemed to be in over his gardening head.

_I'm going to be out here all day,_ Ducky thought with a sigh, _There goes reading that book_.

"Never knew you had a green thumb, Duck." The gray haired man turned to stare at Gibbs, who was walking toward him, ever-present coffee cup in hand.

"Jethro! What are you doing here?" Ducky grinned at his friend, glad for a distraction from the monster pile of mulch he was dreading having to work with.

"Was driving by. Figured I could lend you a hand."

"Oh, you really don't have to –"

"Gloves in the garage?" Gibbs asked, completely ignoring him.

Ducky shook his head, realizing that he was never going to get Gibbs to _not _help him. "Yes, on the table."

Gibbs reappeared a few minutes later, gloves in hand. "This is a lot of work."

Ducky laughed. "Yes, I realized that a few minutes ago."

Gibbs just shrugged and asked where he should start.

The two men worked in silence for a while, finding no need for conversation. Gibbs was handling the mulch ("Don't really like planting things" was his excuse), while Ducky handled putting the plants around the porch.

Voices startled them out of their silent work pattern. "Why are you wearing dress pants? How are you supposed to garden in _dress pants_?" An incredulous voice that could only belong to Abby demanded.

"These aren't dress pants. They're khakis!"

"Anything more than jeans are dress pants, McGee."

"She's right, McGardner."

"Tony, no one asked you! Must you always interrupt people's conversations?"

The bickering quartet arrived to the side of the house Gibbs and Ducky were on, stopping and grinning sheepishly when they saw the looks the two were giving them.

"What are _you_ all doing here?" Ducky asked, "Don't tell me you were driving by too?"

"Oh no!" Abby smiled, "Gibbs called us! He said that you could use a hand. Besides, I love working outside…Oh! Flowers!" Her attention was momentarily distracted by the brightly colored lilies and marigolds Ducky had bought on a whim.

Ducky took in the four people standing in front of him. All were dressed in clothes that obviously were meant for jobs like this, even McGee with his 'inappropriate khakis'.

"So, should we work on the garden?" Ziva asked, surveying the land around her.

"Not without me you won't."

The group spun around to see none other than Director Sheppard standing there wearing jeans, a plain t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers – a far cry from what most of the people standing on the lawn were used to seeing her in.

"What are you doing here?" Ziva asked.

"Well, no one lets me garden at home. Apparently Noami likes doing that. So I'd be honored if you'd let me help you all." Jen grinned.

"I never knew you had a green thumb," Abby replied.

"Your thumb is green? You should get that looked at immediately!" Ziva exclaimed. Tony and McGee promptly explained the idiom to her, to which she replied, "That makes no sense. One's whole hand should be green if that is the case. You need your whole hand to garden, yes?"

Ducky shook his head. "Why are there suddenly all these green thumb comments?"

He put them to work right away on various parts of the yard, grinning all the while. How Gibbs could get everyone here so quickly on their days off was beyond him – but then again, it was Gibbs, and nothing really surprised him.

**NCIS**

"Tony! If you throw dirt near me one more time, I will plant _you_ in this ground!" Ziva declared.

"I didn't mean to! I'm trying to plant this stupid flower!"

"Hey, don't call those flowers stupid!" Abby argued.

"Dinozzo, that's my hand you almost stabbed with your shovel!" McGee exclaimed angrily.

Gibbs, Ducky, and Jenny stood on the porch watching the four bicker. They had finished the rest of the yard a while ago, and were waiting to see just how long it would take for the rest of them to finish the garden.

"Alright," McGee said, "That was the last plant. I think we're done here."

"Thank you," Ziva mumbled.

"We would have done this quicker if McMulcher over there didn't insist on being perfect."

"We want this to look nice!"

"Enough!" Abby said, "Let's just get cleaned up."

As they turned to head into the house, they noticed their three friends smirking at them.

"What?" Dinozzo said, oblivious to the fact that they were laughing at the bickering, "Do I have dirt on my face? Because if I do, blame Probie."

**NCIS**

The group was sitting on Ducky's patio, several pizza boxes scattered around them. "Well, I would have still been working if it hadn't been for all of you. Thank you for the assistance," Ducky said with a smile.

"Well, many hands _do_ make light work," McGee pointed out.

"Yeah, and one kickass garden," Tony added, earning a glare from Abby who obviously thought that one shouldn't describe a garden as 'kickass'.

Gibbs was the first one to smirk. "I'll drink to that."

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**So, what did you think? Like it? Love it? Lemme know...reviews are love and coffee. =)**

**IMPORTANT SUGGESTION: So, I'm planning on doing 'Be careful what you wish for' as a quote for the next chapter...and it's going to be heavy on the Jibbs of course (my specialty). And from you guys, I need something Jen OR Gibbs could have said that could have led to 'Be careful what you wish for...' It could be made up or from an actual episode (I couldn't think of any right away). So, think you're up for it? =)  
**


	9. It Takes One to Know One

**_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS, NOR WILL I EVER, WHICH IS SAD._**

_EAJP here! Sorry it took awhile for this update...as with my other story and my oneshot I've been working on, I had a major case of writer's block and really couldn't find it in me to write. But, I was inspired finally and this is the product. This is loosely based around the conversation Fornell and Gibbs have in autopsy in a past episode where they talk about 'misery loving company.' Anyway, read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is for celtickat, who suggested it. Hope you enjoy it!_  
_**

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**Takes One to Know One**

Gibbs and Fornell were, for lack of a better phrase, getting nowhere fast with their suspect. The FBI and NCIS had teamed up for a joint money-laundering-turned-murder case and seemed to have everything but the money.

Which led to Gibbs and Fornell's current position – sitting in an interrogation room with their murderer trying to find out where exactly he hid the money. But, as one would imagine, a man who was facing life in prison wasn't going to offer any help to the men who put him behind bars.

"Alright," Fornell sighed, "We're going to ask you one more time. Where the hell is the money?"

The murderer smirked. "Like I'm telling you. I'm already in for life. Doesn't really matter to me if that money is ever found."

Fornell glanced at Gibbs, but he wasn't focused on him. Instead, Gibbs was staring at the man across from him in a regarding look. After another moment of consideration, he said, "Right now, you get no shot at parole. You're going to be staring at the same four walls for the rest of your life while you watching other people get out on good behavior. But I might be able to change that."

The man, after a moment of processing what Gibbs had just said, sat up a little straighter. "I'm listening." (And judging by the look on Fornell's face, so was he.)

Gibbs continued nonchalantly as ever, "You tell me where the money is. That's all you have to do. And if it's where you say it is, then I can talk to the judge about getting parole."

Fornell cursed himself for not having a chair because he could have used it right then. He wasn't sure if it was because Gibbs – whose only deal is that whoever is sitting across from him gets to walk out with their life and all limbs intact – just offered a deal to a man who clearly didn't deserve it, or if it was because that's the most Fornell's ever heard Gibbs talk. Ever.

"And you could definitely get me a chance for parole?"

Gibbs looked amused. "Yeah. As long as you don't kill anyone else in jail."

The man smirked. "Some deal for money that doesn't really matter to anyone."

Fornell finally pushed himself off the wall. "Are you going to take the deal or not?"

The man gave a bored glance. "Fine. Money's in locker 23 in the Washington Sports Club on Seventh Street Northwest." Gibbs nodded and closed his file folder, already on his way toward the door.

"This better work." Fornell glared at the man as he followed Gibbs out of the interrogation room.

The two agents made it halfway down the hallway to the elevator before Fornell had to say something. "Alright, what the hell was that in there?"

Gibbs looked at him, clearly amused. "What?"

"What do you mean, 'what?' Did someone put something in that coffee of yours, because you never make deals."

Gibbs shrugged nonchalantly. "We never would have found that money on our own."

They entered the elevator and began their descent toward the ground floor. Fornell raised an eyebrow. "He still didn't deserve a deal."

Gibbs smirked. "No one said I would actually _talk_ to the judge. I said I _can_."

Fornell looked at him incredulously before he realized his own stupidity. After being 'friends' with the silver-haired agent for years, every once and awhile he still fell for the mind games that the poker-faced agent occasionally played. "See, now I understand why you have three ex-wives and every director in Washington hates you."

Gibbs chuckled. "Why's that?"

"Because you're a lying bastard."

As the elevator doors opened, Gibbs smirked again. "Yeah, well, takes one to know one, Tobias."

Fornell snickered quietly. "Ain't that the truth."

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**Well, what did you think? I couldn't resist writing a Fornell/Gibbs scene, especially after watching the re-run of the episode where their ex-wife gets married. Anyway, reviews are love and coffee!**

**Suggestions? I'd love to hear them. =)**

**FYI: I'm still looking for suggestions for Gibbs and/or Jen quotes that could lead to the prompt 'Be careful what you wish for.' If you can think of anything that might fit that, just leave it in a review. Much appreciated! =)  
**


	10. It Takes Two to Tango

**_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS._**

_EAJP here! So sorry it took a little while to get this out, but for some reason, I just wasn't satisfied with the outcome. So after much editing, this is what I got. Anyway, hope the summer is treating all of you well (Winter for Australians, yeah?)...I know that it has been keeping me busy (and throwing inspiration at me left and right, although I can't seem to do anything with it). Well, enough of my ramblings, read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is (extra specially) for She-Demon Sparacino, who oh so graciously sent me a huge list of sayings and such. Much coffee for you! _  
_**

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**It Takes Two to Tango**

They were at yet another stuffy, uptight Capitol Hill gala. For whatever reason, Director Jennifer Shepard always found herself agreeing to them for one reason or another, which meant that she always dragged Gibbs and his team to them too (Because if it's one thing misery loves, it's company).

This meant that Gibbs ended up next to Jen, shooting daggers at every man that tried to make a pass at her. Which was a lot.

Suddenly, the band started to play a quick-moving tango number and Jen grinned devilishly at the silver-haired man next to her. "A dance for old time's sake?"

Gibbs glared at her. Somehow, he knew he would come to regret ever letting it slip that one of his exes made him take dance lessons. Nevertheless, Gibbs offered Jen his hand and led her to the dance floor.

As Gibbs began to lead her in a tango that was probably making the women in the room blush by just looking at them, Jen realized two things:

One, Gibbs was a hell of a tango dancer.

And two, her and Gibbs' relationship could be summed up in this one dance.

Really, when she thought about it, the tango described them in a certain way that words just couldn't. Mainly, it was a dance of passion, which Jen and Gibbs never lacked. From the early days of running around Europe, they were passionate about each other.

Then again, this should have been expected. They were passionate people, at least toward their jobs. It never surprised either of them (or Ducky) that they gave that much passion to each other.

And, Jen thought, almost amused, that the tango was a dramatic dance – something that they had more than enough of in their lives. No matter where they went or what they did, there was some kind of drama lurking in the shadows, waiting to draw their attention away from leisure. After a while, Jen realized that their carefree days were over (if one could call them that), and just chose to ignore any unnecessary drama thrown her way.

Then, as Gibbs continued to twirl her around the dance floor, she realized that much like the tango itself, they skirted around each other, stared each other down, but always ended up together. It was like they played a perpetual game of cat-and-mouse, and neither of them seemed to want to give that up. But that was the way they were, and that would never change.

Yes, whether it's literally or figuratively, it always took two to tango. And they were really the perfect pair for the dance, Jen thought, a slight smile gracing her lips.

But then, Gibbs dipped her to the ground, and all ability Jen had to dwell on this interesting train of thought faded away as she allowed herself to be engulfed in the atmosphere that surrounded them.

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**I know this one is short, but I felt anything longer wouldn't have been right. I know it's not my best, but what do you think? Reviews are love and coffee. =)**

**Suggestions? I love reading them. =)  
**


	11. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN NCIS, WHICH IS A SHAME._**

_EAJP here. Woah, long time no update! For that, my readers, I apologize. Time seemed to slip by, and I've been immersing myself in as many books as possible (The Princess Bride, being my latest novel of choice). Finally, I snatched up a notebook and wrote this while watching Whose Line Is It Anyway? (Anyone remember that show? Anyone?) Anywho, read and enjoy!_

**This chapter is for Agent LastWish (not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I based it around McGee!). Hope you enjoy it! =D**

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"**Curiosity killed the cat."**

"I have to run something to Ducky," Ziva declared rather unnecessarily while working one day, seeing as though Gibbs was with the director and neither McGee nor Dinozzo seemed curious as to where she was headed. Nevertheless, McGee nodded in her general direction, quickly refocusing on his report.

A few minutes later, Dinozzo stood up and headed out of the squad area, deeming it time for a cup of coffee.

At this, Tim finally looked up at the two now-empty desks. Furrowing his brow, he realized two things: One, Tony was _not_ headed in the direction of the break room, and two, Tony and Ziva had been leaving to go do seemingly unnecessary things within five minutes of each other for two weeks now.

Of course, his first thought was that they were breaking rule twelve, but he quickly dismissed it. They wouldn't break Gibbs' rule at work. McGee was pretty sure they valued their lives too much to do that. (Or rather, he _hoped_ they valued their lives too much to do that; he'd hate to have to help Abby dispose of any evidence Gibbs created.)

Shaking his head, McGee decided to write it off as a coincidence. It's not like he never had to take things to Ducky or get a cup of coffee after working for a few hours. So, he tried to return to his work. But of course, he couldn't, because if it's one thing that Gibbs taught well, it was that there is no such thing as a coincidence.

After pondering what he could possibly do (he ruled out mentioning it to Gibbs and asking either Tony or Ziva; neither idea seemed that ideal for Tim), Tim decided that it was best to ask Abby about it, seeing as though she could be asked about anything.

So, with no one to tell where he was going to, he disappeared to Abby's lab.

"McGee!" Abby exclaimed, happy to see her friend.

"Hey Abs." McGee plopped down on the nearest chair he could find. "Did you notice anything different about Dinozzo and Ziva lately?"

Abby quirked an eyebrow at him. "No, they're their usual selves. Why?"

McGee quickly explained his situation to her, not including that he thought rule twelve could be breaking as they speak.

Abby shook her head at McGee. "Don't get involved in whatever they're up to. Don't even think about it."

McGee was shocked that she wasn't jumping up and down. "I thought you wanted them to be together!"

Abby looked taken aback that he was questioning her. "Of course I do! But if they're doing something hinky here, I don't want a part of it. Gibbs won't leave any survivors if he finds out."

"But I want to know!"

"Curiosity killed the cat, Timmy."

"Do I look remotely feline to you?"

Abby sighed. "If it helps, I saw them walking down the southwest corridor yesterday together where all the empty offices are." McGee grinned at her. "That doesn't mean I'm setting up any surveillance systems," she added quickly.

McGee sighed and said goodbye, deciding that maybe Abby was right. If even she didn't want a part of it, neither should he.

**NCIS**

Still, the next day, Tim found himself listening closely for any signs of other people being around as he passed empty offices in the southwest corridor, fifteen minutes after Tony and Ziva yet again disappeared.

After looking almost every door trying to detect any sign that someone had used it recently, McGee gave up and headed toward the elevator. He was being creepy, first of all, and it was also unfair to Tony and Ziva to assume that they were sleeping together.

But the appearance of two disheveled agents in front of him stopped him dead in his tracks.

"McGoo! What are you doing down here?" Tony exclaimed as Ziva tried to hastily fix her hair and shirt.

McGee probably would have answered, 'I could ask you the same,' if he could speak. But he couldn't, because this obviously meant rule twelve was shot to hell and back.

And judging by the murderous look in Tony's eyes, Tim also realized he was obviously about to die standing in the southwest corridor of NCIS (because Abby failed to mention that curiosity was now preying on men, too).

But all Tim could do was smile at the couple (confusing them both greatly), because although it meant Tony would probably attempt to snap him in half, and Gibbs would probably attempt to snap Ziva and Tony in half, McGee was a rich man.

He just won the thousand dollar betting pool.

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**What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Reviews are love and coffee! =)**

**QUESTION: Fellow novel readers out there, do you have any suggestions for good books to read? The book pile I bought is dwindling, and I'm feeling the need to restock. Love to hear what you guys are reading. =)**

**Suggestions? Lemme hear 'em!**


	12. It Takes a Thief to Catch a Thief

_**DISCLAIMER: I STILL DON'T OWN NCIS. SADLY.**_

_EAJP here...finally. It's been SUPER busy, and I had the absolute WORST case of writer's block ever. But alas, I produced something that at least somewhat resembles a story. Hope you enjoy it!_

**This chapter is for Ellethwen Celtica, who suggested it. Hope you enjoy it!**

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"**It takes a thief to catch a thief."**

There were exactly three people in the entire building who knew about Abby's secret stash of chocolate from the best candy store in the D.C. area, and two of them really should have never found out in the first place.

The first person, the only one actually entitled to knowing of said chocolate, was the Goth herself. Although Caff-Pow! was Abby's primary source of energy during the work week, she liked to keep a few of the best dark chocolate candy bars in town in one of her locked desk drawers for times that just simply called for a chocolate fix.

However, one day, while Abby was removing some chocolate from the drawer to eat after a particularly difficult case, McGee happened to catch her. But, instead of owning up and risking Abby concocting some kind of way to make McGee forget he ever saw it, he simply tucked the knowledge away in the back of his mind.

And ironically, exactly two weeks after McGee discovered Abby's secret, Tony did too. Except unlike Tim, Dinozzo was a little less discreet when he felt the need to raid Abby's chocolate drawer.

"Hey, McProbie! Is Abby still up in MTAC?"

McGee glanced warily in the senior agent's direction. "I think so, why?"

"No reason." Dinozzo waved his hand in Tim's general direction. "Back to work!" McGee bit his tongue, but said nothing in reply.

A few minutes later, after what seemed like much internal debate, Dinozzo announced that 'he'd be back soon,' and disappeared to the elevator with one final glance up at the catwalk.

McGee, who for once, pieced together what Tony was doing quickly, also disappeared, leaving a disinterested Ziva in the squad area (who had no intention of trying to figure out what exactly her coworkers were up to).

McGee crept to the door of Abby's lab and peered in. Sure enough, Dinozzo was attempting to make quick work of the lock on Abby's drawer (which was a task easier said than done – McGee knew from personal experience).

"Dinozzo, have you literally lost your mind?" McGee strode into the office then, deciding that he'd rather face the wrath of Tony than the wrath of an angry Abby.

"McGee! What the hell are you doing here?" Tony spun around (the 'chocolate drawer' now open behind him) and shot daggers at the younger agent.

"The better question is, what are _you_ doing here? If Abby walks in here and sees you breaking into her stuff, she'll definitely make good on her threat to kill you without leaving any forensics evidence!"

Dinozzo narrowed his eyes. "She won't if she doesn't know."

"What, you think I'm _not_ going to tell her? Really Tony, I think we should get your head checked out. She'll find out eventually, and you know that I can't lie to her."

Dinozzo stared at him for a few moments. Suddenly, realization spread across his features. "McGoo! You _know_ what's in this drawer, don't you? You've done the same thing I'm doing!"

"What? What are you talking about? Of course I don't! I never did anything!" McGee sputtered.

"Yes, yes you do! You would have never known to look for me here if you hadn't broken in here for her chocolate yourself!"

McGee glared at him, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Oh Probie, don't you know? It takes a thief to catch a thief." Dinozzo grinned cheekily, already plotting how he could use this unfortunate incident to his advantage.

"And it looks like both of the thieves in this case were caught red-handed."

Both men spun around, frightened. In the door way stood none other than the woman they were hoping wouldn't show up.

"Abby, we can explain –" Tony started.

Abby held up a hand. "Save it, Tony." She clicked her remote and shut the main door to the lab with an evil grin.

"Wh-wha-what are you doing, Abs?" McGee questioned nervously.

Abby grinned again. "Oh, I'm just going to show you what happens when you steal a girl's chocolate. Now excuse me while I go get the mops and brooms."

While her back was turned, Dinozzo and McGee shared a look. Needless to say, neither of them got any chocolate (or wanted any, after six hours of cleaning, that is).

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